


Fried Fashion Sense at the Lima Bean Café

by oddegg



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-03
Updated: 2010-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-12 02:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddegg/pseuds/oddegg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is forced to get a summer job. Puck's there a lot. Kurt's not sure if that's a bad thing or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fried Fashion Sense at the Lima Bean Café

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://lezi.livejournal.com/profile)[**lezi**](http://lezi.livejournal.com/), for the prompt [here](http://community.livejournal.com/puckurt/401627.html?thread=13966299#t13966299).

[](http://community.livejournal.com/puckurt/tag/author%3A%20oddegg)  
This is a nightmare.

 _Seriously._

This is a hideous, horrible nightmare fashioned from material even Stephen King would think crossed the line and Kurt would really, really like to wake up now. Or, if he can’t wake up, perhaps the sheer horror of it will stop Kurt’s heart and he can die right here.

Faced with the grotesque, monstrous, canary yellow … _thing_ in front of him, death would be a blessed release.

“You’re saying I have to… _wear_ that?!”

His new co-worker and supervisor Andy gives him a puzzled frown. “Well, yeah. It’s the uniform. Here, you get three shirts and one apron – if you need any more you have to buy ‘em yourself”

And with that he dumps the atrocious excuse for clothing into Kurt’s arms. There’s a faint crackle of static and his arm hairs slowly bend toward the shirt. It’s polyester. Of course it is.

Kurt wondered if that job he saw bussing tables at the local strip club/bar was still open.

Sure, he would have to lie about his age and the advert had made it fairly clear bar workers were going to get treated like they were one small, clear-Perspex-heeled step away from being strippers, but even if he ended up topless and in assless chaps, it would be better than having to wear a yellow, polyester polo-shirt.

* * *

…And it’s possible that statements like that were what had made his Dad start complaining about ‘skewed priorities’ and got him into this mess in the first place.

He’s meant to be working on that attitude over the summer while he toils as menial labour.

Shit. Off to a good start there Kurt. Well done.

* * *

Kurt’s entry into ‘torture’ (his words) or ‘gainful employment’ (his Dad’s words) had gone something like this:

Kurt sitting at the breakfast table the first day of summer break dreamily eating an English muffin and planning his shopping schedule for the next month on his iPhone.

Burt coming in frowning down at the opened piece of post in his hand and saying “Do you realise you spent $500 in one day last month, Kurt?”

Kurt looking at him blankly and saying “…Yes?” (with the implied ‘And?’ quite clear in his voice)

Burt transferring his frown from the bill in his hand to his son and asking “Was there something special you were buying?”

Then Kurt had explained that he’d been absolutely _required_ to buy a new jacket because Rachel Berry had turned up at a Glee meet wearing a striped blazer that, while not the same _at all_ as his, was similar enough to look vaguely alike to the idiots at school who wouldn’t recognise designer if it dropped to its knees and blew them, and there was no way he was having people think he dressed the same as someone who obviously used a seeing-eye dog when they went shopping.

For some reason that made Burt frown even more and then there was talk and the phrase ‘skewed priorities’ had come up. Along with the phrases ‘getting too entitled’ and ‘taking your privileged position for granted’ and ‘need to learn the value of money’ and ‘summer job’.

Kurt had squawked “ _Summer job_?! Do you know how much that’s going to cut into my shopping? I’m not getting a summer job!”

Burt had said “Summer job. Or I take away your credit card altogether”

Kurt had said “I’ll start looking today”

* * *

And ok, maybe Kurt had briefly formed a sneaky plan to just pretend to look for work and then claim with _great_ sadness that nobody seemed to be hiring and wasn’t the current economic climate just terrible? But it turned out that Burt’s friend John ran a local diner-cum-coffee-shop and would be happy to take Kurt on over the summer.

How fortunate.

The place was called the Lima Bean Café, and that attempt at humorous word play was going straight onto Kurt’s list of ‘Reasons Why I’m Leaving This Hick Town The Very Second After Graduation’

Because the owner was a friend of his dad’s, Kurt couldn’t even throw the fit he wanted to over the uniform of yellow shirt and a black apron. Andy informed him that John thought it made the staff look ‘happy and welcoming’

Kurt thought it made them look like terminally unfashionable bees. And personally made him feel neither happy nor welcoming.

But it was a requirement for the job. And a job was a requirement for him keeping his clothing allowance so he had to suck it up and deal. Baby needed the new season’s Fendi bag, after all.

Kurt had just sent up a prayer of thanks that the Bean was out of the way enough not to be a favourite with the high school crowd. He really didn’t need any of his friends ever seeing him like this.

* * *

But it seemed whichever god had intercepted that prayer apparently had a nasty sense of humour because it wasn’t even an hour into his very first evening shift when he wandered over to the customer who’d just come in and sat down in a booth in his section to discover the guy was none other than Noah Puckerman.

 _“Puck?”_

“Hummel?”

Then, both at once; their voices harmonising in a way Kurt would appreciate more if he didn’t currently look like he was taking fashion tips from Bumblebee Man out of The Simpsons, “What the hell are YOU doing here?!”

Kurt recovered first, and he sniffed “ **I** happen to work here. What are you doing in this part of town at this time of night?” Then his (perfectly justifiable around jocks) paranoia kicked in and he asked suspiciously “Did you come here to make fun of me?”

Puck frowned confusedly, looking like a dog that’d just been shown a card trick. “Why would I want to make fun of you? And” he added pointedly “ **I’m** here because my fight club is just round the corner and I like to get coffee and pie afterward. Aren’t you meant to be taking my order?”

Kurt was about to reply ‘You would be making fun of me because I look like a squid threw up on Spongebob and then someone skinned him and made me a shirt’ but then decided that if Puck hasn’t noticed the awful he won’t be doing himself any favours by pointing it out. _Why_ he hasn’t noticed Kurt doesn’t know – maybe the boy had his sense of good taste surgically removed at birth. It would explain the Mohawk.

He sighed and fetched out his order pad. “What sort of pie?”

* * *

When he brought Puck’s order back over – cherry pie (asked for with a leer, of course) and a coffee so loaded with froth that even Kurt thought it was overly frou-frou – Puck immediately hunched over the dessert and, shoving a huge forkful in, asked around his mouthful “So why the hell _are_ you working here, Hummel? Never thought you needed the money, with the stupid amount of fancy clothes you wear”

And Kurt would snap some bitchy putdown at him, but though Puck’s words are rude and crude his tone isn’t – merely interested. So he surprised himself by saying agreeably enough “Well, the amount of clothes I’d bought persuaded my Dad I needed a lesson in the worth of money – hence the summer job. If I didn’t get one he was going to cut my clothing allowance”

Puck reached out and picked up his coffee, taking a long sip and slowly looking Kurt up and down as he did. When he put the cup down he had a foam moustache and a smirk. “That outfit something you bought with your allowance then? Thought you said yellow’s not your colour, Hummel”

Kurt could have _screamed_. He knew Puck would just make fun of him, how could he forget what a complete dick the guy was?

He didn’t loose his cool though. He was proud of that. He rose above it.

He said “Yeah? Well at least I’m wearing something crappy because I _have_ to, not because, like _you_ , I picked it out!” and then he walked off.

Ok, he may have flounced a little.

Also, maybe he didn’t have as much of the high ground there as stated.

* * *

And, as it turned out, he may have overreacted at Puck a bit.

Because even when he was whirling round to stalk (ok, _ok_. Flounce) off, Kurt hadn’t missed the look on Puck’s face. Like he was honestly surprised Kurt had been offended. Like maybe he hadn’t meant it like that.

Something that was confirmed when – after Puck had lingered for a while at his table, trying and failing to catch a resolutely blind Kurt’s eye – he had stopped next to Kurt at the register when he finally left and said in a low voice “Look, Hummel. M’sorry if I upset you. I didn’t mean anything by it”

And Kurt looked at him, standing there squinting at his scruffy trainers and rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, and the thought struck him that Puck hadn’t been being a mean dick; he’d been being a teasing dick. Which yes, ok, was still him being a dick – but Kurt realised Puck had, in his own Neanderthal way, been trying to be friendly. That had been _friend_ teasing.

So, suspecting he’d regret it, Kurt sighed and said “That’s ok, Puck. My reaction may have been a bit over the top” He leaned in and whispered so that Andy wouldn’t overhear “I just really hate this shirt”

Puck gave him a half smile and looked him over again “Yeah? It is a bit bright”

Kurt rolled his eyes “At least you don’t have to see it every day. Or ever again, in fact”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Hummel. I think I’ll be seeing a lot of it” The tease was back in Puck’s voice and he had a wicked glint in his eye.

Kurt froze and a feeling of dread crept over him. Did Puck mean…?

“You’re going to come here again, aren’t you?”

Puck totally ignored the horrified tone in Kurt’s voice and gave him a sunny smile. “Everyday, Princess! Everyday. Aren’t you glad?” he asked cheerily, and then he _patted Kurt’s cheek_ and sauntered out the door.

See? Kurt _knew_ he’d regret it.

* * *

Though the fact that when he went to bus Puck’s table he found he’d left a ten as a tip was quite nice.

* * *

And the fact that something about their encounter niggled in the back of Kurt’s mind until, just as he was drifting off to sleep that night, he started fully awake again and said out loud “Holy shit. Puck was totally checking me out!”…

Well, actually, Kurt didn’t know what to make of that. He didn’t know whether it was nice or whether he should be deeply afraid.

After worrying about it kept him awake for a long time, Kurt managed to persuade himself that he’d misinterpreted and that there was nothing in it at all.

Possibly.

* * *

Puck didn’t, thankfully, start coming in everyday.

But he did start coming in very regularly. And he always sat in Kurt’s section and he’d tease Kurt as he ordered and bug Kurt to sit down and talk to him if it was quiet or hang around the register and chat if it was busier.

Kurt actually found himself looking forward to seeing Puck, and caught himself smiling happily when he saw that stupid re-growing Mohawk through the glass in the door.

He found that he actually _liked_ Puck. That the jock was fun to talk to and joke with – that he had a sly sense of humour mixed in with his crude manner.

He found that they argued good naturedly about music and that they liked a lot of the same tv shows (apart from Puck’s loathing of Project Runway and deep, inexplicable love for Deadliest Catch), and when Kurt mentioned the subtext in ‘Generation Kill’ astonishingly it was Puck who said ‘Oh, god yeah. Iceman and Flick were so doing it’. And he said it calmly, like it wasn’t anything unusual. It had made Kurt wonder.

Because the thing was that there had been a lot more incidents where Kurt caught Puck doing something that could definitely be interpreted as checking him out. Especially when Kurt had decided to do a test one day and worn his favourite pair of jeans – which were much too good to wear for waiting tables but Kurt knew they made his butt look fantastic – and when Puck came in he’d spent almost his entire time there with his eyes glued to Kurt’s ass.

He’d started staring at Kurt’s mouth a lot as well. Staring and licking his own lips, like he was wondering how Kurt tasted.

Even Kurt’s co-workers had noticed. On one of the now rare days when Puck hadn’t come in Andy had said idly toward the end of the afternoon “Your boyfriend not coming in today?”

Kurt had spluttered and said, slightly too loudly “Puck’s not my boyfriend!”

Andy had given him an odd look and said slowly “Okaay. So why was he giving that guy the evil eye when he flirted with you the other day? He looked like he wanted to pound the dude into the ground”

Kurt remembered that. The customer had been flirting with him, hanging over the counter and making Kurt a bit uncomfortable because the guy was forty if he was a day and rather sleazy looking. Then Kurt had gone to take an order and when he came back the guy had been quiet and quickly paid and hurried off, shooting nervous looks over at the corner where…

Where Puck had been sitting. Puck had chased the guy off for him? But had it just been because he was protective or… because he was jealous?

Andy had been oblivious to Kurt’s confusion and simply shrugged “I’m just saying. If the dude minds people thinking he’s your boyfriend, he should stop looking like he wants to tattoo his name on you all the time when people look at you”

But Kurt didn’t know if Puck _would_ mind people thinking that. That was the problem.

* * *

And then today Puck had been there at the end of Kurt’s shift and had followed him back into the employees room when he clocked out to continue the argument they were having about whether ‘House’ or ‘Mad Men’ was better ( _“Two words for you, Puck – Don. Draper” “Two words for you, Hummel – Hugh. Laurie”_ ) and Kurt – who always ripped the hated uniform shirt off as soon as he got through the door – turned round and opened his mouth to tease Puck about having a man crush on someone three times his age. But the words died in his throat because Puck was just staring at him with a slightly glazed look in his eyes and Kurt remembered he was half naked.

He was half naked, standing there stupidly with his own shirt dangling forgotten in his hand, and this? What Puck was doing now? That was text-book ‘checking him out’. That probably went past ‘checking out’ and over the line into ‘drooling over’ to be honest. Kurt watched as Puck slowly dragged his gaze over Kurt’s chest and up until their eyes met.

Kurt’s heart started hammering madly in his chest as he saw Puck’s eyes go dark, and then Puck darted his tongue out to wet his lips and took a step forward…

And Kurt panicked.

He snapped into motion, pulling on his shirt with a lack of care for the fabric that he’d kick himself for later, and he blurted out in a rush “Gosh! I’m really tired! Long day. I think I’m going to go straight home”

But even through his panic Kurt saw that the look on Puck’s face was definitely disappointment. And he saw his eyes go dull and heard the dejected note in his voice when he replied quietly “Yeah. Ok. I understand”

Puck shoved his hands in his pockets and gave him a small, unhappy smile as he added “I’ll see you around then” before turning and going.

He left Kurt standing there frozen, outwardly speechless. Inwardly, however, his brain was shrieking at him in a chorus: part of it telling him ‘Jesus Christ! What are you _doing?!_ He was going to kiss you, you fucking idiot! Why did you stop him?!?!’, another part screaming ‘He doesn’t understand! He doesn’t understand at all – he thinks you don’t like him, you fool!’ and yet another gibbering ‘Do you _want_ to die a virgin, you fuckwit?’ (With a tiny part adding in disbelief ‘And, oh my god. Did I really say ‘gosh’?’)

Then one last little voice shut all the others up by pointing out ‘You do realise he’s leaving? And he might not come back’

And that was the one that got him moving at last. Got him running in fact. Grabbing up his bag and bursting out of the room and through the diner and out the front door in rush, and he nearly despaired when he got outside and couldn’t see Puck anywhere but then he caught sight of him at the end of the street about to get into his truck and Kurt shouted out “Wait! Puck – wait!” and he fucking _sprinted_ down the block to get to him.

“Fuck, Kurt! Are you ok? Is someone after you? What’s the matter?!”

Puck was sounding increasingly worried – probably by the fact that Kurt had arrived like the hounds of hell were after him and was now half bent over, clutching his knees and wheezing, unable to answer. God, Kurt needed to keep up his training over the summer or Coach Sylvester was going to kill him come first semester.

“Kurt?! Fucking talk to me, dude!!”

Jesus, Puck sounded frantic now. Enough of this crap – time for Kurt to man up and lay his cards on the table. Sort this all out like an adult. He pushed himself back upright, threw his shoulders back and stared Puck down.

Then he flailed his arms wildly and said shrilly “Are you… were you… Have you been flirting with me?!”

…Very man like, Kurt. Very adult. And top marks for articulacy as well, by the way.

Puck was now staring at him like Kurt was insane (which was actually quite possible, the judges were still out on that one). He was staring and… not saying anything. And ohgodohgodohgod, Kurt had obviously got it all wrong. Puck had never been flirting, Puck had never wanted him, and now Puck was going to have a homophobic freak out and mess up Kurt’s face or worse, his hair. Puck was going to call him names. Puck was…

Saying “Of course I’ve been fucking flirting with you! Are you blind or something? I’ve been trying to get into your pants for _weeks!_ ”

Oh.

Kurt blinked a few times. _Ohhh_. So he hadn’t been going crazy after all. That was good.

But Puck was still talking. Puck was scowling down at the ground and saying “But I get that you’re not interested, ok? I’m not stupid; you didn’t need to chase me down the street to hammer the point home”

And that was NOT good, not good at all, because if he didn’t make Puck understand then the idiot was going to talk them both out of what Kurt thought could be some pretty sexy times. Kurt had to _make_ him understand!

Before he could think twice about it, Kurt decided to make Puck understand through the medium of ‘show’ rather than ‘tell’ and he stepped forward, grabbed hold of Puck’s shirt, hauled him down and kissed him.

Puck’s mouth was wet and his lips were softer than Kurt had imagined they would be, and his mouth had been slightly open with surprise – just enough for Kurt to dart his tongue out and lap at the underside of Puck’s top lip – but he got over his shock very quickly indeed and snaked his arms around Kurt to pull him closer. And then there were several busy moments filled with _warm_ and _slick_ and _tongue_ and _teeth_ , just a little nip of _teeth_ , and all Kurt was thinking was _yes_ and _oh god_ and _more_. _More, more_ and _please_ and _more_.

When he finally pulled away Kurt’s mouth felt swollen and his lips were tingling like he’d just applied cinnamon lipgloss. Puck didn’t look in any better state and his red, wet mouth and lust-darkened eyes just made Kurt want to dive back in there. He held back though, because he had a point he wanted to make.

“You _are_ stupid!”

Wait. There’d been more to his point than that. But Puck seemed to understand what he was trying to say because he smirked and drawled “Yeah? Well you’re kind of slow yourself” and reeled him back in.

Kurt tried to add ‘I really am interested’ but it was rather mumbled what with Puck’s tongue being in his mouth and all, and anyway, he thought the way Puck was grabbing hold of his ass to pull him closer meant he probably understood.

* * *

So the remainder of Kurt’s summer job filled school break sucked a whole lot less then he thought it was going to at the start.

He enjoyed flirting with Puck at work more now that he knew for certain that’s what was going on, and after his shifts ended Puck (who was still turning up at the diner – in fact, now he was there all the time) would follow him into the backroom and watch him change – or interrupt and interfere with him changing – and then they’d go back to Kurt’s house or to Puck’s house and hang out if it wasn’t too late.

Or if he had an evening shift Puck would drive him home and then make out with him in the truck until Burt came to the front door and scowled at them, tapping his watch. And then after Kurt waltzed past his dad and down to his room he knew he’d get the first text from Puck – _‘miss u alrdy. u nekid yet?’_

He didn’t get as much sleep as he should those nights, but he did get a lot of use out of the text allowance on his phone package. He saved some of the better ones.

And if he had one of the earlier shifts or it was his day off and they were hanging out then… well, let’s just say that although the break was sucking less, there was still sucking of a sort going on. Kurt quickly learned to appreciate the fact that both he and Puck had locks on their bedroom doors. And that, along with having his fashion sense removed at birth, Puck had apparently had them get rid of that pesky gag reflex as well.

In fact, the weeks just flew by and then all of a sudden his dad was smiling at him over breakfast and telling him how proud he was of how Kurt had got on at the job and then it was his very last shift at work and John the owner was there and _he_ was telling him he’d really liked having Kurt work there and Andy was chipping in with how much the regulars liked him and how they’d miss him next week when he was back at school.

And astonishingly, Kurt realised he’d miss them as well, and that – even if you didn’t count the Puck-filled bits – working at the Bean hadn’t been so bad. That he’d liked Andy and joking with the regulars and that he had actually saved up some money because he’d been so busy with Puck outside of work he hadn’t really had time to spend much of it.

But the real reason he’s actually sad the summer’s over; the tiny, niggling reason hidden deep down inside him, is that in between make out sessions he and Puck haven’t talked at all about what’s going to happen once they’re back at school.

And no matter how fantastic Puck’s kisses are, no matter how hot and bothered they make each other, no matter how obvious Puck’s sincerity is when he says breathlessly _‘Oh… **god** , Kurt! You’re amazing…’_ while Kurt’s blowing him well… Lima is still Lima, and high school is still high school, and a small, terrified part of Kurt is very afraid that come Monday morning Puck’s going to remember that as well and then he’s not going to have a boyfriend anymore and his happy diner dream will be over.

* * *

He is so, so glad he never mentioned those fears to Puck though.

Because on Monday morning Kurt is standing in front of his open locker, trying to bolster his courage for whatever the day’s going to throw at him, when he gets spun around and pushed gently back against it, and Puck’s there holding his arms and grinning down at him and he hears a soft “Hey, babe!” before Puck leans down and there, in front of god and man and the whole school, is kissing him – long and slow and deep.

And Kurt half hears a whistle and a delighted _‘Go, Kurt!’_ from Mercedes and a disgusted _‘What the fuck?’_ that sounds like Karofsky and he’d totally worry about that but at the moment he’s far too busy winding his arms round Puck’s neck and kissing him back.

They have to break apart eventually (annoying thing, this need for oxygen) and when Kurt looks round he sees ‘Cedes and Tina both giving him the thumbs up with wide smiles. He also sees a couple of football players and yes, that had been Karofsky’s voice because he’s standing there sneering at them and he says again, loudly “What the fuck? You’re a fag now, Puckerman? Is this little fag your _boyfriend_?”

And Kurt cringes inside his outer shell of distain, but before he gets a chance to say anything Puck turns, still with an arm around Kurt, and replies calmly “Actually, the term is ‘bisexual’ and yes, Kurt is my boyfriend. And that means” he adds, his voice going low and dangerous “If you call him a fag again I’ll kick the crap out of you for it. And you’ve seen me fight, Karofsky. You wouldn’t last a minute”

Karofsky just stands there gaping for a moment and then he snarls _‘come on’_ at his friend and stalks away. Kurt blinks. He didn’t think the lunk had enough brain cells to have _first_ thoughts about a confrontation, never mind second ones.

Puck runs a thumb down Kurt’s neck and murmurs “Someone brought him along to my fight club once and he saw me beat down a guy twice his size. He didn’t come back a second time. If he bothers you again, tell me”

Kurt was still feeling a bit stunned. “Fight club?” he asked blankly “I mean, you mentioned it once but didn’t think…”

Puck turned to face him, leaning against the wall with one arm. He gave a sheepish smile and said “Yup, kind of broke the first rule of the club there, but yeah – I go along regularly”

And now some things were adding up. The nights when Puck would turn up late during Kurt’s shifts, looking like he’d been working out. The occasional bruises or cuts that Kurt had thought were from sports training. Though there hadn’t been that many injuries, not enough to make Kurt worried or suspicious and certainly not enough to indicate Puck had been getting battered twice a week, which must mean –

“You’re good, aren’t you? At fighting, I mean”

His tone was perhaps insultingly shocked but Puck just nodded “Yes, I am. Been doing it a while now and I’m one of the best there. It’s helped me get a lot of anger out this year”

“I thought you were joking when he told me about it that first night at the diner”

Puck grinned “Nah, I wouldn’t have said anything but I was a bit shocked to see you there. I actually ended up going more often than usual to train because I knew I was going to get to hang out with you afterwards and watch you bustle about in those tight little pants you always wear. Better stress relief than the fighting”

Kurt could feel himself blushing slightly and he coughed and smoothed down his shirt “Yes. Well, I suppose it wasn’t _absolutely_ horrendous working there. I’m still rather glad school started though – at least I don’t have to wear that unsightly uniform anymore”

“Oh, I don’t know” Puck nudged him “I think I might miss it”

Kurt stared at him like he was crazy. “Noah, that thing was repulsive. It was the most hideous, fugly shirt in existence!”

Puck shrugged “Well, yeah. But…” he leaned in close and his hot breath on the side of his neck made Kurt shiver “I’ll miss the way you ripped it off you the moment you could. I’ll miss you being in such a hurry to get half naked. _That’s_ the bit I liked”

And they’re in a crowded corridor, at school, in the middle of the morning, so Kurt can’t respond to that in quite the way he would like to most (that would involve his bed, and his silk sheets, and him throwing Noah down onto his silk sheets and showing him just how quickly he can get naked when properly motivated) but he still has to give some response so he gives Puck a quick kiss instead and then whispers in his ear “Well, I still have one of the shirts at home so if you wanted to help rip it off me tonight I’d be up for that”

And he doesn’t miss the slight hitch in Puck’s breathing or the low growl he gives when Kurt whirls out his reach and away, giving him a little wave as he moves off down the corridor to his next class and the look in Puck’s eyes makes Kurt surprisingly anxious for the day to finish so he can get home and put that horrible, canary yellow shirt on one last time.

He never imagined he’d ever say it, but perhaps that nightmare of a uniform had its plus points after all.

  
 


End file.
